1000 Miles
by JSaintG7
Summary: Ginny is gettin' a little action and it's doing her health wonders. Who woulda thought that casual sex with Malfoy would be benificial?
1. Under Pressure

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A/N: Ok, I have a couple of things to say, so please bare with me and read it all. 

Firstly; I began writing this way back in September 2003 when I had a tonne of free time on my hands and I began writing it thinking that it would be a piece of cake. I was clearly wrong. I can't believe how I possibly thought that I could do a better job than everyone else out there. So sorry for all those good names I have defamed in the past J 

Secondly; I've figured out that no matter how much I edit something its never going to be exactly how I want it, so I've decided that I'm going to do my damndest to just stop being so anal-retentive about it all. 

Thirdly; I'm so lazy, so very lazy, I rarely finish what I start. As in, this has turned into one of those things that I do when I'm supposed to be doing homework. So (as I sit here not doing my Russian homework) I've decided to just put it up as a work in process, which I really didn't want to do, but I know that I will never finish it if I don't have people telling me how brilliant I am ;) 

I know the basic plot line of this, it should end up being 10-12 chapters, with each chapter about as long as this one. A happy ending. Don't take any of this too seriously, its all just a game, a bit of a lark, I am in no way ever going to compare the work I have here with **Davesmom**, **Mynuet**, **Strega Brava**, **Mocha Butterfly **(All You Need Is Love was the first real D/G I read), **Lee Velviet **(I'm still waiting for an update on The Dragon Rebels, hint hint), **Lady Rhiyana**, **IAmTheLizardQueen**, **VenusDeMilo**, **Kirixchi**, **Jedi Tess of Gryffindor**…and I am positive that I'm forgetting other great authors…My grammar should be tolerable and if you find any errors plot-wise or HP canon wise just let me know, it would be greatly appreciated. 

Phew, ok, almost done. Oh, there may be people out there reading this who know me outside of the world of cyberspace, so let me know what you think! I almost posted this under a pseudonym so that I wouldn't cop flak from people who actually know me…but I was brave! Make it worth it for me, people!

Disclaimer: Please do sue me cause then I'll have an excuse to do nothing with my life. You may be wondering how its possible to use being sued as an excuse to do nothing with your life, but let me assure you, if anyone could do it it would be me. 

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1. 

Under Pressure 

David Bowie and Freddie Mercury

Mm ba ba de 

Um bum ba de 

Um bu bu bum da de 

Pressure pushing down on me 

Pressing down on you no man ask for 

Under pressure that brings a building down 

Splits a family in two 

Puts people on streets 

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Virginia Anne Weasley allowed a _very_ satisfied grin to spread across her face, and with good reason too; she had just had the _best _sex of her life.

…Ok, fine, so it was the _only _sex of her life so far. But it had been great none-the-less. 

Ginny's eyes remained closed as she lay in bed, stretching her arms as far above her shoulders as she could manage, mindless of the arm strewn across her middle. The cool, cream coloured sheet shifted a few centimetres lower as she now stretched her whole body in a most feline manner, causing muscles that normally went unused (before last night, anyway) to protest quite vigorously. The grin slowly faded to a content smile as she cracked one eye slowly and, when she wasn't blinded by the onslaught of the glaring morning sun, the other eye lazily followed the first. Ginny then allowed her arms to flop to her sides bonelessly as she breathed a little sigh, smile still firmly in place. She then lazily turned her head to the left to look at the person who had given her her night of positively sinful pleasure. 

Ginny sighed again, except this one was more of a "well-what-can-ya-do?" sigh, for the person to her left was none other than _the _Draco Malfoy. Ginny turned her head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, thinking back to what had brought her here.

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The Evening Before…

"Ginny, now, _really_," said a very exasperated Hermione Granger, as Ginny's head came to rest rather forcefully on the Gryffindor dining table, "are such theatrics necessary? Honestly…"

Ginny raised her head several centimeters off of the table and turned to stare blankly at Hermione. After several moments of this, Ginny deemed it too tiring and she turned her head back slowly and let it thud back down to its resting place on the table. Hermione winced at the impact but said nothing more, rather she sighed in a very agitated manner before getting back to her dinner; fettuccini alfredo. Silence reigned between the two until Ronald Weasley, irritating brother of Ginny Weasley and besotted boyfriend of Hermione Granger, and Harry Potter walked briskly up to the table discussing the recent Chudley Cannons and Puddlemere United game.

"Ron! I don't care how often you say it; if Jenkins is close enough to Wadock to give her a black eye with his elbow then he deserves to be called for cobbing, accident or NOT!" Harry finished through gritted teeth as he sat down at the dining table across from Ginny, running a hand through his perpetually wild hair and tossing his meal tray on the table with the other.

"He apologized!" Ron protested as he dumped his books and food on the table and sat down across from Hermione . "And he brought her flowers in hospital, so if you ask me he's interested in her on more than a professional level." Ron hesitated a moment, looking to see if Hermione was paying attention to what he was about to say, before starting again, "It was a _bloody_ accident!"

"Ron! Language!" Hermione snapped, jerking her head up from her meal to frown at him.

"Sorry, 'Mione," Ron said contritely as he began to eat, he did after all have the decency to look repentant when he got caught. Harry clasped his hands on the table in front of him and then looked pointedly at Ron, his lips pressed in a firm line and his eyebrows raised above the line of his glasses. He then turned to Hermione. 

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Harry asked accusingly. 

"Don't you go on to me about what you have to deal with, Mister Harry Potter," Hermione retorted, placing her fork down on the table and nodding her head at Ginny, "I already have one Weasley with a flair for drama to take care of at the moment."

"Gees," Ron mumbled in a hurt tone, "I love you too, Herm." Hermione's only response was to clench her teeth and roll her eyes. She then picked up her fork, internally debating whether the utensil could best be used for eating or stabbing. After an unnoticeable amount of hesitation she decided that Ron could be dealt with later and in a less violent manner, one that wouldn't leave him possibly unmanned. She wasn't a masochist after all. 

Meanwhile Harry's eyebrows had slid down and into a frown, his lips softening as he inspected Ginny. "Ginny," he said tentatively, his green eyes inspecting Ginny with obvious worry, "what's wrong?"

Ginny groaned in pain as she raised her head off the table, her body still slumped forwards as she glared half-heartedly at the Boy-Who-Lived. Her elfin features were made more severe by her pinched expression; her high cheekbones lacked their customary natural pinkish tint (her flawless complexion was in fact rather pallid), her almond shaped brown eyes, usually alive and beguiling, were at half mast, her lips made thin as she pressed them forcefully together, bleaching them of their colour. The only thing that remained the same about Ginny Weasley was her vibrant red hair, though it was currently pulled back in a tight ponytail. The vitality of her slightly wavy red hair only served to make the girl's currently pasty skin even more, well, pasty. 

"Merlin, Gin," Ron exclaimed with his customary lack of tact as he finally noticed Ginny's rather disturbing appearance, "you look like death warmed up. Maybe you should see Madame Pomfrey." Ginny slowly moved her eyes onto Ron's form, her half glare still firmly intact, and bit by bit her head followed the movement of her eyes. Ron froze mid chew under the penetrating, hostile look that was now directed at him. Suddenly, as if she found it too much of a trial to continue with her present course of action, Ginny's head thumped back onto the table. Ron started at the movement and then joined Harry and Hermione as they winced at the expectantly painful action of slamming one's head onto the dining table. 

Ron swallowed and then cleared his throat before saying, "Come on, Gin, what's wrong?" Ginny heaved with a massive sigh, her whole body lifting with the effort it took.

"We're only two weeks into the school year," she mumbled into the table, eyes now fully closed once more, "and I'm already exhausted."

"Well, don't work so hard," Ron said, as if the answer were obvious. 

"I don't expect to play professional quidditch for the Chudley Cannons, Ron, it's not like I can afford to get bad grades."

"She's right, Ronald," Hermione confirmed, "the only sure way to guarantee a successful future is to be as prepared as possible, which in this particular environment," the bushy-haired girl gestured around her, "involves getting the best possible marks." Harry and Ron shared an apprehensive glance before quickly averting their eyes, lest they get caught. But to no avail, for Hermione seemed to be in particularly good form tonight. "Don't! Just don't!" She fumed, as she carefully placed her fork beside her plate, removing the temptation to use it as an instrument of harm. Hermione then did something quite unexpected; she closed her eyes and began to hum. Slowly the tension faded from her features, the frown slid from her brow, her lips relaxed, and her shoulders lowered, the muscles in them loosening. Finally, she took in a deep breath…expelled it…and opened her eyes calmly to face the confounded looks on both Harry and Ron's faces.

"Herm…i…o…nee…" Ron ventured hesitantly, fear now clearly etched on his face. Hermione shocked the two boys again by smiling pleasantly at them before proceeding to pick up her fork again and resume her meal. 

"Relax, Ron," Hermione looked up for a moment to meet his eyes, her pleasant tone matching her pleasant smile, "isn't that what you're always saying I should do?"

"Well, yes," Ron consented, "but this is kind of…creepy. Harry, help me out here!" He rushed on, sparing Harry a panicked glance. Harry shook his head, as if ridding it of cobwebs, and thought for a few moments. 

"Ron, didn't your mother ever tell you about how there is this thing called a gift horse and that you shouldn't look it in the mouth?" Ron turned his perplexed look to Harry now.

"Harry, I don't know _what _you're talking about, but whatever it is now is not the time to discuss it, because Hermione is quite simply stark raving mad." Ron paused for a moment as a horrified look slowly crept across his face as he turned slowly back to watch Hermione while she ate. "Or maybe that isn't Hermione…" He whispered. Harry rolled his eyes before leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table and place his head in his hands as he massaged his temples.

"Ron!" He said exasperatedly, "we've had this discussion before; just because a person acts out of character it doesn't mean that it's Malfoy using polyjuice."

"But-"

"No! Damnit, Ron! No!" Harry almost yelled as he slammed a fist down on the table and glared at his best-friend. Ron looked at his friend with concern.

"Gees, Harry, re-"

"Don't tell me to relax, Ronald Weasley!" Harry bit out. Hermione allowed her smile to turn up a watt as she listened to the interaction between her two best-friends. When one was not a participant in a fight with the youngest male in the Weasley family it really was quite amusing. Hermione, understanding Harry's…vexation, intervened.

"Ron, there's really nothing wrong with me, I've simply realized that there is no way that I am going to change you, or Harry for that matter, and you both seem to have stumbled along rather well so far. Who am I to attempt to alter your, apparently successful, methods?" Ron looked at Hermione's innocent expression suspiciously. 

"Alright, I'll allow that," he responded guardedly, "but why the sudden change of heart?"

"Isn't it enough that I finally realize that I love you for who you are? That even if I could, if I thought about it," she added quickly, "I wouldn't change a thing about you?" At this, the long-forgotten-Ginny snorted inelegantly into the table with undisguised mirth, for she knew the real reason for Hermione's change…

There was a slight tightening around the Head-girl's lips before she took a deep breath and the lines dissipated. However, Ron didn't notice any of it, neither Ginny's reaction to Hermione's remarks nor Hermione's reaction to Ginny, because Ron's suspicions had crumpled under his girlfriend's heartfelt declarations. 

"I love you, Mione," Ron said softly with a silly half-smile, taking the much talked about fork from Hermione and replacing it with his hand in her grip. 

Ginny's head was still facedown on the table when she began to speak."Ya know, if I was to vomit right now, I'm almost certain I would suffocate in it, because I simply don't have the energy to move." All three people at the table looked at Ginny with mild disgust. "Don't look at me like that," Ginny said imperiously, without even opening her eyes, "Harry at least must admit that that little performance was positively sick-making." Ron and Hermione swung their heads to look at Harry who shrugged his shoulders and tossed his head, as if he had seen such 'sick-making performances' many a time. Which wasn't altogether true, but how often did one get to toss their head in such a lofty manner and not come off as a complete ass? The couple had the grace to look abashed, releasing their hands and resuming their meals. 

After a few minutes of silence, in which Ginny still hadn't moved, Seamus Finnigan came to sit down beside Ginny, nudging her with his elbow. Seamus was rather tall, just clearing six foot, with a medium build, sandy hair and chocolate brown eyes. The Irishman was handsome in a very boy-band way, though he appeared to be completely oblivious to the effect he had on some women. _Appeared _being the key word. Seamus was the kind of boy who when he smiled his eyes lit up and smiled as well, and let's just say that right now his eyes could have lit the entire city of New York during a blackout. 

"Hey, Ginny-dear," his lilting voice sounding altogether too lively for Ginny's liking, "what's got you down on this fine night?" Ginny grunted. "Ah," Seamus responded as he nodded his head in understanding, "yes, well, we all know what you need to cure that;" this was the point at which Harry, Hermione, and Ron all either sighed, rolled their eyes, or groaned (or some odd combination of the three), for they knew what was coming, "…a shag."

The Dream Team sighed in unison at having their expectations confirmed. Though to be perfectly honest the odds were considerably in their favour, in much the same way that lightening was in favour of striking lightening rods. "Yep, that's what you need, Ginny-dear, a shag," Seamus grinned, unashamed, and, to one less acquainted with the group, quite remarkably unafraid, considering the often over-baring, youngest male Weasley (who felt the need to make up for the absence of his sister's five older, other testosterone-driven Weasley brothers) was sitting right there. 

But Seamus acted with the full knowledge that no harm would come to him, for it was a well known fact that Seamus Finnigan flirted outrageously with Ginny Weasley for no particular reason. Even Ron had come to see that it was just a game and had ceased his dire threats of death and mutilation some time ago. Seamus rubbed Ginny's back soothingly and said, "I'm here for you, Ginny-dear, day or night, anytime, you just owl me." He then lifted himself from his sitting position at the table and whistled as he walked away. Ginny wondered to herself what he would actually do if she took him up on his offer one day…probably run the other way, 'cause Ron would certainly kick his arse then.

"Ginny, why don't you just take a break tonight?" Harry suggested. "It is a Friday after all, so you have a couple of days before your work is due."

"I would take a break tonight," Ginny mumbled, "but I have detention."

"What did The Bastard do now?" Ron asked angrily around a mouth full of food. Ginny correctly interpreted 'The Bastard' to be Severus Snape, resident Potions Master and teacher.

"Nothing lately, other than dirty perfectly good air. I actually have detention with McGonagall." 

Hermione gasped. "Really?" She asked, astonished. "What did you do? It must have been serious for her to give you detention, you're in Gryffindor, which should automatically excuse you from some things, though she is fair."

"I was tired. I said something instead of something else and the next thing I know," here Ginny's shoulders heaved with a sigh, "my book _on _minotaurs is in fact _a _minotaur."

"Damn," Harry grimaced. "So do you owe her 20 years of detention or just your first born child?"

"No, no, just tonight." Ginny's tone belied her words as she added, "Quite surprised myself, actually." 

"Well, I've got homework to do, so I'm off," Hermione stated as she rose and gathered her belongings. 

"What?!" Ron cried, "But it's a Friday night!"

"Precisely, Ron," Hermione explained patiently, "I need to do all my work tonight so that I can spend tomorrow and the next day with you." Ron looked startled for a moment before responding.

"Well, then, get to it, woman," he said with a silly grin on his face and a commanding wave of his hand. Hermione smiled back at him and looked at him expectantly. Ron looked from her to Harry, to Ginny, and then finally back to Hermione, and then his smile started to fade. He sighed a deep sigh, his whole body working with the effort as he grumbled, "I'll finish eating and then I'll meet you in the common room." Hermione gave him a charitable smile.

"That's quite alright, Ronald, you do what you want to do. I merely wanted a goodbye kiss," a pleasant smile gracing her face. 

Ron looked dumbfounded for a moment. " 'Course, Mione," and he stood slowly and proceeded to kiss her hesitantly on the cheek. Hermione smiled at Ron again and then turned and left. Ron remained standing, his eyes narrowing as he watched his girlfriend leave the dining hall.

"She's up to something; there's no way she would let me not do any homework on a Friday night." The red-haired boy looked severely confused for a few more moments. "Damn women," he muttered, "give 'em a mile and they'll take you around the world." Then he too hefted his books and left, thinking Hermione's actions were some kind of elaborate trick so that she could…do…something…He'd figure that part out later.

"Ginny, if I leave you, will you live?" Harry asked mock-seriously. 

Ginny, moved by his concern, lifted her arm…and gave him the finger. Hey, she wasn't moved in a _nice_ way. 

Harry chuckled as her arm thumped back down, exhausted with the effort. "Ah, Gin," he said as he stood and collected his things and made to leave, "you make it too easy." Ginny grunted, as Harry left, still smiling to himself.

A few people from each house lingered in the dining hall, taking the time to enjoy their meals without having to worry about the pressures of having work to turn in the next day. One of those people was Draco Malfoy, who had an amazing love of food and whose sleek frame was explained by an equally amazing metabolism and regular exercise as the Slytherin seeker. 

Blaise Zabini, Malfoy's best friend, had left only moments before to work on a secret potion that would be the "key to many a Gryffindor's humiliation". Diviniation had been a big thing in the 60's and 70's, attendance had surged, and thus there were now a surplus of unused rooms that were absolutely perfect for the Slytherin to make the potion in secret.

Blaise Zabini stood at 5'8", had almost black eyes, was slender in build and in possession of striking features, not pretty or beautiful, but striking. When combined with the seventh year's acerbic tongue, the angular features only served to increase the cutting effect. Over the years, Blaise Zabini had established a reputation for possessing a quick wit and a far superior intelligence. Where Malfoy had developed the ability to stomp all over a person's confidence, Zabini drew on a plethora of incredibly artistic words to simply slice said person's confidence in the most efficient locations.

At this year's sorting Zabini had excitedly (well, as excitedly as a person who is characterized by sedate dignity and an often strait-laced sense of propriety could be) revealed that it had taken the entire summer to appropriate all the necessary ingredients for the, as yet, unrevealed potion. Unsavory locations and characters alike were depicted in exaggerated detail in an attempt to engage the intended Slytherin audience. Blaise received countless offers of assistance at the dinner table that night, for who wouldn't want to be associated with the "key to many a Gryffindor's humiliation"? But Blaise Zabini had fenced the offers with an amazing alacrity and with such diplomacy that none found it possible to dissuade the seventh year's desire for privacy in this matter at fault.

The Head Boy nimbly twirled a strand of pasta around his fork and casually brought it to his mouth, allowing himself a moment of close-eyed appreciation. Those elves may be lower forms of life, but damn could they cook. Or so Malfoy thought.

Malfoy was slouching casually (though it seemed like a calculated pose), one slender hand curved about the top of his plate of pasta protectively while the other lightly grasped his fork in a manner that on anyone else would have looked, quite frankly, poncy. His robes clung to his arms and the rest of his figure wonderfully, showing his slender 5'10" frame to perfection. Naturally. As if a Malfoy would be caught in any state other than perfection. Though the family had contemplated visiting California at one point…but back to the matter at hand.

Malfoy's hair was gelled back severely, as it had been since his hair was long enough to gel back. Hell, who was he kidding, according to Draco Malfoy _any _length was long enough to gel back. Malfoy's features were altogether aristocratic, as they should be. The quidditch captain's features were delicate, almost too delicate. Almost. His grey eyes harmonizing with his pale blond hair flawlessly, and his full lips in combination with his high cheek bones only added to his palpable sex-appeal. And he _knew _it. In fact, he looked like he had just stepped off a GQ magazine photo shoot. As usual. _And he **knew **it_. Always had. Never doubted it. 

At the moment Malfoy's attention was focused somewhere other than on himself, well, partly anyway. A good 25% of it at least. The Weasel's miserable figure had captured his attention a few moments ago when her head had thumped down on the table immediately preceding the departure of Harry "Wanking" Potter. Malfoy was not surprised by Ginny's actions, thinking the presence of "The Boy Who Is the Poster Child for Abortion" would drive anyone to pound their head against the nearest hard surface. Malfoy shared a moment of pain with Ginny Weasley, and then promptly thought to compensate for said moment of empathy by harassing her as she left the dining hall. Malfoy took another bite of his pasta and smirked; life was good.


	2. Everything About You

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A/N: Ok, it literally made my day to wake up and see reviews for my story, I can honestly say that everyone mattered to me. Eeeeeeexcellent. And I'm not a sentimental person at all, so it was kind of disturbing ; ) But in a good way.

I've had three chapters written for about two months now, but I've been too lazy to make the corrections that my beta (who I , unforgivably, forgot to mention!), Rikki, made. I was gonna wait till Sunday to post another chapter but couldn't contain myself. I've told a friend that I've done something and that she should find out sometime between now and a few weeks (she reads FF.net tonnes) and she's really pissed off at me cause I'm being so damn vague about what IT is, hehehe. Simple pleasures. 

Alright, other than adding squiggly thingys to separate the sections of the story, I have made one small alteration to the previous chapter, though it is debatably a big change. It was an important change because I'm trying to do something and, for anyone who read it before the change, if you notice it then you'll understand why it was a potentially big change. But I ain't telling' how I screwed up ; ) 

One last thing before I do…one…last…thing…I love ellipses, can't get enough of 'em. Anyway. The songs that I have, and will continue to, place before each chapter relate to said chapter in some way. I like all of the songs that are there, so you'll see a truncated, cliff-notes version of my music library by the time the story is done. Note how I say that as if its going to happen. I'm thinking positively. Good times. 

Yay! Now, the people who made my Monday the 12th in the year 2004: **Eve Granger**, dude, you were my first reviewer sniff, sniff, **Suzaku's Rose**, **Veriawen-Ethel**, author's list! Yay! **Pirate'sRedWinter**, **loucher la dinde **(what does your name mean?), and **Myunet**, you shoulda seen me when I read that you had read my story, I musta looked like I was on crack I was so ecstatic. I read every one a dozen times over and practically have them memorized. Thanks so much. 

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2.

Everything About You

By Ugly Kid Joe

I, hate the rain and sunny weather,

And I, hate the beach and mountains too, boo hoo.

And I, don't like a thing about the city, no, no,

And I, I, I, hate the countryside too!

And I, hate everything about you!

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"In case you need to find me, Ginny-dear, I'll be in the common room," Seamus shouted across the dining hall from the doors. Ginny made the effort to turn her head and give him the thumbs up sign and a mocking smile. Seamus grinned in response before spinning on his foot and ambling down the hall with his hands in his robe pockets and out of sight. The exhausted red head's face went blank of any expression and her arm dropped as if someone had cut the strings holding it up. Her head still leant sideways on the table, facing the entrance of the dining hall. Her eye lids fluttered softly and then slowly lowered, and her last conscience thought for the next 15 minutes was a desperate plea to whatever higher deity was listening that she not drool…too much.

Ginny awoke to a repetitive tapping sound. She refused to acknowledge the sound for a few moments, hoping her brain would find a way to incorporate it into her dream, but the sound was getting increasingly annoying. Ginny tried to bring enough air into her lungs to sigh exasperatedly, but found that in her current state of extreme fatigue it was rather impossible. She settled for slowly dragging her head up to look for the source of the sound. With six brothers (well, ok, five; Princess Percy doesn't really count as male, not _really_), Ginny had a virtual lexicon of insults and cuss words to pull from. And she was more than sure that she had energy reserves she could call on from _somewhere _that would enable her to vent her frustration suitably.

Malfoy was pissed. _Really _pissed. Here he was, all ready to make The Weasel miserable, and the stupid chit was _already _miserable. That was just rude. Was she really so poor that she couldn't afford some common courtesy? He wasn't about to take someone else's leavings; he wanted to make her miserable on his own, tear her apart on his own! He didn't need the job half-done already! He had pride, damnit! It better not have been Potter… Malfoy's frown increased with each thought until his shiny black designer loafer was drumming a steady, forceful beat on the stone floor. "Finally," Malfoy muttered as Ginny slowly raised her head up off of the table. He waited with feigned patience as her gaze slid slowly across the table to meet his legs mid-thigh. He watched as her gaze skated the rest of the way up his robe covered form, a scowl working it's way onto the girl's face once she realized that a human being was the cause of the interruption.

Ginny noticed the crossed arms and the rigid stance of the boy in front of her, and when her dark brown eyes finally met his grey ones the tapping foot stopped. "Malfoy," Ginny growled, "would you mind pissing off?" Malfoy responded by taking a step closer to the table and looming over her, forcing Ginny's head to roll back as far as it could go in order to meet his eyes. 

"Did Potter do this to you?" He spat, ignoring her polite request for him to vacate the premises. Ginny's scowl intensified until it was rivaling Malfoy's, but the fact that her body remained slumped in her seat negated the unspoken threat quite a lot, especially when one compared her posture to the successfully imposing one of Malfoy's. 

"Go. Away." Ginny's growl was not met with the hoped response of Malfoy actually leaving. Malfoy ignored her again, and instead took the time to take in the change in the sick-looking girl's appearance. Ginny Weasley wasn't beautiful, in fact, she just made the cut-off for pretty. Ginny was of average height for a female at 5'6". In her youth Ginny had been gangly, all limbs, but then so had all the Weasley children. And, like the rest of her siblings (except Princess Percy), she had filled out in more-or-less the right places (sometimes more, sometimes less). Ginny was slim, but curvy in the right places, nothing special, but all in all more than satisfying. Malfoy placed the credit for The Weasel's prettiness on her vivacious hair, that,even now, was alive…when everything else about Ginny Weasley screamed that she was the walking dead. 

"You've slobbered on yourself," Malfoy said derisively as he peered down his nose at the pathetic looking sixth year. Ginny's response to his comment wasn't met with the expected embarrassment, rather, she continued to glare at Malfoy as she raised her robe sleeve to her mouth and casually wiped. Malfoy rolled his eyes and sneered at her. "Typical Weasel, dirtying everything you comes into contact with. I don't know why you bother washing at all." Malfoy paused for effect. "You do wash, don't you?" His inspection of her form implying he wouldn't be surprised if she said 'no'. 

"I wash," Ginny said indignantly, affronted. "I may be poor, but I find the money for soap, you bastard."

"Oh?" Malfoy countered with mock surprise, his eyebrows raised, "Is it possible that you might also manage to find the funds to purchase a respectable vocabulary? Only a Weasley woman would lower herself by speaking so commonly."

"I repeat; piss off," the glare was now firmly back on Ginny's face. 

"How very eloquent of you," he taunted. 

"I try."

"How very pitiful if this is you _trying_," he sneered.

"Well, I'm not trying very hard! And neither would you if you were exhausted!" Ginny cried frustrated. Malfoy's eyebrows rose in mock surprise again. 

"Where _does _Mister Potter find the energy? What, with quidditch practice and all," Ginny flushed red at the insinuation, though Malfoy couldn't tell whether it was from anger or embarrassment. He liked to think it was both. He smirked with success. "Speaking from personal experience, it's no mean feat to perform on two fields in one day." Ginny didn't say a word in response, only continued to glare at the current bane of her existence. 

Still Ginny did nothing but glare at Malfoy. And Malfoy did nothing but literally look down on Ginny with haughty disdain. 

Nothing.

…

Still nothing. 

…

More nothing. 

A few younger years stared for a while at the silent duo before boredom won out and they walked off. The hall was empty when one of them finally spoke. 

"Go get some sleep, Weasley," Malfoy sneered, for The Weasel looked painfully as if she would suddenly wilt and collapse with fatigue, even from her sitting position, and he would be damned if she fell asleep while he was addressing her. 

"I can't afford to sleep, Ferret!" Ginny snapped, her eyes veritably sparking with anger. Malfoy merely shook his head and sighed with honest disappointment at Ginny's, clearly un-thought out, remark. Ginny realized the ridicule she had opened herself up to with her last comment and groaned at her own stupidity, her head thumping back down onto the table. "I'm busy," she mumbled, "that's what I meant; that I'm too busy to sleep." 

Malfoy looked at the dismal scene with displeasure; it hadn't been nearly as gratifying as he had thought it would be. Malfoy left Ginny, who was mumbling to herself, thinking that perhaps he should stick to harassing the male Weasley.

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Three hours later.

"Miss _Weasley_!" A voice yelled. It was almost a screech, really. Ginny's head snapped back and cracked against the wall she was previously slumped against in slumber. Professor McGonagall winced as her student grimaced while she rubbed her head in an attempt to sooth it, she really was getting a few too many head injuries these days. McGonagall resisted the urge to apologize for startling her student, her irritation at the fact that Ginny must have fallen asleep as soon as she was left to her own devices making the urge to resist expressing regret just that much easier. 

The professor had intended to return an hour earlier, but the teacher's meeting that usually followed her Friday night extra help class had gone an hour longer than normal. The reason for the extended teacher's meeting being the pressing need to discover a way to deal with the fourth year boys who had found a potion that gave them the ability to see through objects that had a simple targeting spell on them. Needless to say the target had been the girl's shower wall. The girls were just thankful that it hadn't occurred to the boys that staring at a wall like a bunch of simpletons might attract attention. After much agreement that this must never be allowed to happen again there was also much agreement that it was a rather brilliant application of their skills. 

Snape was pleasantly surprised that they had managed to brew such a delicate and advanced potion. They must have been _really _motivated. How did they get the supplies? Miss Granger would have been the only student that he would have credited with enough intelligence and skill to not only create the potion, but to also find a compatible spell to control it with, though he highly doubted she would have any interest in looking at naked girls. But he'd dye his hair red and gold before he admitted his faith in Hermione Granger's skills.

So due to the unusual circumstance the meeting had run fairly late and it was now 10pm. 

"Sorry, professor," Ginny said with expected contriteness. 

"Miss Weasley," McGonagall sighed, though this time she shook her head in a strangely similar manner as Malfoy had earlier. "Go to bed," the tall, severe looking woman demanded as she walked briskly over to her desk and sat down, "you're clearly exhausted. I'll discuss this with you on Monday morning before classes." Ginny mumbled a 'thank you' before slinking quickly out of the room, lest McGonagall change her mind. 

Ginny had left the Great Halla few minutes after Malfoy had departed, knowing that if she stayed still for much longer she would find herself creating 'Lake Ginny' with her drool on the table again. She had lifted herself slowly and shuffled to the transfiguration room where Professor McGonagall had awaited her arrival. Ginny had stared blankly at the middle of her teacher's forehead, nodding occasionally while the teacher had rattled off a list of chores that needed to be accomplished in order for her detention to be complete. The professor had left, her robes billowing behind her, while Ginny had promptly fell back against the nearest wall and was asleep before her rear hit the ground. 

Ginny stumbled her way to her dorm room, pulled off her robes and uniform, threw on her oversized Weird Sisters t-shirt and pulled on a pair of Princess Percy's hand-me-down sweat pants. She did a quick teeth cleaning spell, removed her hair tie and then slid between the cool sheets of her bed, pulling the curtains around her at the same time with practiced ease. She expelled a breath and then flopped back onto the pillow and closed her eyes and lay there. And lay there. And lay some more. And lay yet some more. Then she rolled onto her side. And lay there. And then she rolled onto her other side. And lay there. And then she rolled onto her stomach, her neck arched at an uncomfortable angle on her pillow. And lay there. 

Finally, she twisted violently onto her back, scowling something fierce, and kicked viciously at her blankets. When she had removed the offending covers from her person, she flung her feet onto the cold floor, stomped over to where she had flung her robes and with angry, choppy movements pulled them on. She then stuffed her feet into her poor, innocent, bedraggled bunny slippers that sat quietly on the floor at the end of her bed, grabbed her wand from her bed-side table and shoved it into her robe pocket, and as she headed towards the common room she, rather brutally, pulled her hair into a ponytail. 

The scowl was still firmly in place when she was intercepted by Seamus at the entrance to the common room. "Ginny-dear!" He began with his usual cheer.

"Back the _hell _off, Finnigan, before I castrate you," she snarled as she stomped over to the fireplace, not even sparing him a glance. Seamus jerked back at the words and the tone that went with them before muttering something about 'someone desperately needing a shag' as he walked away.

Ginny was intercepted again on her way to the fireplace, this time by Hermione. Though it was more of a collision than an interception. Hermione's armful of books went flying and, naturally, the heaviest one landed on Ginny's left foot, squashing the poor bunny's nose back into its face. Ginny began hopping on one foot muttering an endless litany of, "Damnit! Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!"

"Ginny! I'm sorry! Are you alright?" Hermione streamed. "I was carrying a pile of books and I couldn't see over the top of them! I knew I should have dropped them off at my room first," she berated herself. 

"I'm fine, Herm," the grimacing red head muttered through clenched teeth as she steadied herself by holding onto the Head Girl's shoulder as she tested her weight on her foot, "it was just as much my fault as yours, probably more." Ginny's jaw loosened as the pain in her foot dissipated, signaling there wasn't any major damage. 

"Ginny, shouldn't you be sleeping?" Hermione asked as both girls got down on their hands and knees and gathered Hermione's books. 

"Yes," Ginny snapped, knowing Hermione would realize that her waspishness wasn't directed at her, but rather at the situation. "I'm sure I would be sleeping…if I hadn't already slept through my detention." Hermione gasped with shock, just as Ginny had expected. Both girls stood, each with an armful of papers, quills, and text books. 

"Virginia Anne Weasley!"

"I know," Ginny cried, walking with Hermione towards Ron and Harry, "I have to see her on Monday to work something out." Ron made a sound of protest as Ginny dumped her armload of books onto his lap. 

"Who do you have to see on Monday, Gin?" Harry asked. Harry and Ron were sitting near one of the windows on a plush velvet couch, farther from the fire than Ginny would like, but then nothing went as Ginny liked. Not today anyway. Not for the last two weeks actually. Ginny sat down next to Harry as Hermione, too, dumped her books onto Ron's lap. Ginny leant forward, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, scowl now firmly back in place.

"McGonagall. I fell asleep in detention," she explained wearily, they didn't need to know that she fell asleep before she even started her detention, she'd keep that transgression to herself. 

"Explains why you no longer look like shit," Ron said bluntly in a mild tone as he pulled Hermione down next to him. And he was right; the rings under Ginny's eyes were no where near as pronounced and there was a slight red tinge to her skin that hinted at a degree of restfulness that should have pleased Ginny. But it didn't. 

"Thank you, Ronald, thank you very much," she replied in the same mild manner. When Hermione had finished glaring at her boyfriend, who had now sunk deep into his seat in the hopes of disappearing, she began to talk.

"Have you considered dropping a class?" Hermione questioned, concerned. "There's no shame in it you know, some people just aren't up to the rigors of having such a full schedule." 

"That's the thing!" Ginny wailed, "I'm only taking Defense, Potions, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Charms, Astronomy, Herbology, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies. I'm a natural at Charms, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures, so I have no problem there, and actually, I have no problem in my other classes! My grades would rival yours if I was having a good day…and if you were having an exceptionally bad one!" Ginny signed in frustration. "You know what I mean." Hermione nodded in sympathy, understanding Ginny's plight. Hermione then glanced at Harry and Ron, and once she had ascertained that their attention was not focused on her conversation with her friend, she quickly stood and dragged Ginny a few feet away. 

"Are you sure that…what I do to relieve tension doesn't work for you?" She whispered covertly as she held Ginny's upper arm.

"Yes," Ginny replied, her head hanging. "Maybe if I wasn't so far gone…" She trailed off. Hermione hesitated, looking around the common room at it's 20 or so occupants, before continuing. She really wasn't the sort of person to share personal details anyway, but Ginny looked so forlorn, Hermione would do anything to help her.

"It's quite a shame, really," the Head Girl sighed, "it really is invigorating, and yet calming at the same time. It has the potential to give you a whole new perspective. However, if that doesn't work there's always…" Hermione became flustered as Ginny looked at her with blatant curiosity. "Uh, well, after Ron and I…you know…I'm very relaxed," Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably under Ginny's amazed scrutiny. 

"Hermione! He's my _brother_!" The younger girl whispered furiously, tugging her arm out of Hermione's grasp. She most definitely did not need to hear about her brother's sex-life. 

"Well! I wasn't suggesting you do it with _him_!" Hermione whispered back just as furiously, crossing her arms. "And you don't have to go all the way, you really don't even need another person."

"I _know _that," Ginny bit out, "I'm not a fool." This conversation was just too bizarre; Hermione, of all people, was talking to her about the birds and the bees.

"I wasn't saying you were," Hermione placated. "But-"

"What _are _you arguing about?" Ron called.

"Just think on it," Hermione muttered through clenched teeth as she smiled at Ron, while she and Ginny walked back to the two boys. "Secret women's business, Ronald, you wouldn't care to know," she said soothingly as she leaned down and kissed her boyfriend on the cheek. "I was on my way over here to say goodnight when I ran into Ginny." 

"Oh," Ron finally said, perplexed; Hermione was not big on public displays of affection, and this was the second time in one day. Hermione stacked her books and was about to lift them when Ron offered to help her. 

"Yes, thank you; I certainly don't need to be dropping books on people again. That's very considerate of you, Ron," Hermione said sweetly. Ron blushed at the praise and smiled nervously, glancing at Harry when Hermione wasn't looking with a questioning look. Harry responded by shrugging his shoulders and shaking his head, having no more idea of why Hermione was acting so strangely than Ron did. Hermione took a moment to send Ginny an encouraging look before smiling at Ron and leading the way across the common room. Ron hesitated before following his girlfriend. She usually insisted on carrying her own books, no matter how many she had. What in Merlin's name was going on?


	3. Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?

A/N: Ok. Anonymous reviews! Eeek! I forgot to turn that on before. But I have now. Good times. I'm half done with the next chapter and it has been two weeks so I'm putting another bloody chapter up, damnit! Ok. Yes. 

****

Veriawen-Edhel, **Bunny / Sailor Moon**, **Kati**, and **Nerwen Faelvirin **- this one is for you! Whoooo! 

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3.

Do Ya Think I'm Sexy?

By Rod Stewart

If you want my body 

And you think I'm sexy 

Come on, sugar, let me know 

If you really need me 

Just reach out and touch me 

Come on, honey, tell me so 

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Ginny went and sat down where her brother had been, across from Harry, pondering Hermione's words. Ginny really was just frustrated enough to at least think about it. Ginny lifted her gaze to Harry's questioning one. 

"Gin, are you alright?" Harry asked. Ginny mentally crossed him off the list of possible candidates; he was her friend, she couldn't have casual sex with a friend, it would ruin the relationship. And it would make her look desperate if she threw herself at Harry, she had had a mild crush on him for a few years…ok, fine, it was a bloody obsession of epic proportions worthy of serial stalker status. But that was years ago. 

"I'm fine, Harry, just having a moment of silent contemplation," the redhead responded with as much cheer as she could. She then rolled her eyes, Hermione really did have some strange ideas. Ginny then heard a boisterous laugh and, recognizing it as Seamus', she turned in her seat to see what he was laughing at. As soon as she saw him Ginny thought of Seamus' continual petition for her to have sex with him. The accent certainly was sexy…A few moments later Ginny crossed him off of her list as well; Seamus wouldn't be able to keep it to himself, not that he'd be deliberately malicious and tell everyone, but he's damn horrid at keeping secrets. Plus, she didn't want Ron to kill him if he found out. Ginny turned back in her seat and grimaced as she recalled that, thanks to Seamus' inability to keep his mouth shut, the whole school knew that Lavender Brown was a screamer. 

Suddenly, Ginny sat bolt upright on the edge of her seat and froze, her newly recovered colour draining from her face. _Mother of Merlin_, she was taking Hermione's suggestion _seriously_. 

"Ginny?" Harry was genuinely worried now. He shifted to the edge of his seat, preparing to catch Ginny before she fell face first on to the carpet should she pitch forwards.

"I'm fine," Ginny whispered hollowly, "I'm fine. I-I'm gonna go for a walk." Ginny stood woodenly at her words, realizing that she would now have to actually go for a walk so as not to arouse suspicion. The last thing she needed was Harry prying the truth out of her. And she left before her old-crush could say a word. She heard Harry remind her that curfew was at midnight before the portrait shut behind her. Ginny leaned back against the portrait, much to the protestations of the Fat Lady. 

"Oh, shut up, you stupid woman, or I'll introduce my nails to your face!" Ginny snapped, shoving herself back against the portrait for good measure.

"Oh! Well, I never-" The Fat Lady sputtered.

"Oh! Well, I never!" Ginny mocked in a pompous, high falsetto. "Shut! _Up_!" There was silence for a few moments and then Ginny found she couldn't stand still, her body was filled with a nervous jittery feeling and she really did need to go for a walk now. 

"What would my mother say?" Ginny muttered as she shook her head. The disturbed young woman had found herself outside of the infirmary, which wasn't too surprising considering that Ginny volunteered there quite often in preparation for a career as a medi-witch. The infirmary offered a tangible goal when everything was becoming too much. 

Ginny leaned against the locked infirmary doors, her hand grasped her glowing wand which was now pointing towards her bunny-clad feet. Ginny tapped her foot and watched the ears flop before sliding down into a sitting position, bunny clad feet stretched out in front of her. The pensive red head sat there for a few minutes before deciding that with her luck she would no doubt be found by Filch and given detention for merely existing if she stayed out much longer. It wasn't much longer after that realization that Ginny heard footsteps coming briskly in her direction. 

"_Nox_," she whispered, extinguishing her glowing wand. 

"Too late, Weasley," a voice cut through the darkness. Ginny could practically _hear _the smirk.

"Shit," she said despairingly, as Draco Malfoy stepped into view, the glow from his wand illuminating his face, giving it a deceptively warm appearance despite its sharp angles. 

"Language, Weasel," Malfoy reprimanded. 

"Shove it, Ferret," Ginny mocked back in the same tone. Ginny was inwardly delighted when she noticed the grip on his wand tighten slightly at her response. She then realized that she was once again in the unenviable position of looking up at a Malfoy and promptly corrected it by standing. But even standing she found herself looking up at him.

"I am going to take great satisfaction in what I am about to do to you, Weasley," the pale boy (he certainly wasn't a man in her opinion) stated firmly. Ginny experienced a moment of alarm at his matter-of-factly spoken words before realizing that he didn't mean to do her any bodily harm.

"Before you say anything, Malfoy," she interjected, striving to achieve the sort of calm the boy standing across from her accomplished with no effort at all, "if you think to turn me in for breaking curfew then I hate to disappoint you but I still have 15 minutes." 

Malfoy looked at Ginny impassively and the red head almost cracked under the intensity of the gaze. Malfoy then pulled a silver pocket watch from within his robes and glanced at it. "So it would seem." After placing his watch back he walked to the opposite wall and leaned against it, his arms folded casually. Ginny visibly cringed at the triumphant smirk that worked its way slowly onto his face. "I can wait." Ginny frowned at his words before a look of horror replaced her confusion.

"You bastard," she whispered. 

"Language, Weasley."

Ginny stood for a moment longer before slipping back down to the ground. No matter what she did, she was screwed. If she left for her common room Malfoy would follow her and then he, and therefore the rest of Slytherin, would know its location. She couldn't do that to her classmates, which meant that she had to stay here until Malfoy left, and there was no way he was leaving until it was past midnight.

The 15 minutes passed quickly despite Malfoy's constant checking of the time. Ginny's nerves wound themselves tighter and tighter with each successive pull of the watch from his robes, and, naturally, upon noticing this Malfoy endeavored to check the time on a more frequent basis, often looking at the infuriated red head's face in favor of the watch's. Ginny noticed Malfoy inspecting her slippers and self-consciously tucked them under her sitting form; she knew for a fact that Malfoy didn't consider himself above attacks on her clothing. Surprisingly, Malfoy didn't comment on the obvious discomfort Ginny experienced from his scrutiny of her bunny slippers. 

"You now have one hour of detention," Malfoy stated after consulting his watch for what must have been the twentieth time. And then he stood there. Ginny looked up at him expectantly. And when he continued to just stand there, her expectant look was replaced with her confused look. And after 30 seconds of that, her confused look was replaced with a look complete and total fury. Her deep brown eyes veritably glowed with anger and her jaw was clenched so tightly the boy standing across from her was sure _something _would snap in a moment. 

Malfoy could barely maintain the look of boredom he had pasted on his face, the sight of The Weasel's as she realized the inevitable was too much. "You're embarrassingly easy to read."

"You-I-Arggg!" 

"How very articulate of you," Malfoy responded snidely.

He wasn't going to go, he was going to wait for her to leave and then he was going to follow her. And while he waited for her to leave he was going to continue to dispense detentions. 

Malfoy had just transfigured a pocket book into a chair. Ginny groaned softly; he was in it for the long haul. She had two choices; she could either try to wait him out, or she could throw in the metaphorical towel and just go back to the Gryffindor common room with The Ferret in tow. She then noticed the head-boy transfiguring his monogrammed handkerchief into a footrest. She stood abruptly and began walking rapidly down the hall. A few seconds later she heard footsteps following. 

"_Lumos_," she bit out through clenched teeth. Malfoy didn't say a word as he followed behind her. Ginny made a point to back track and take a very convoluted path towards her common room in an attempt to lose her tormentor, or at least to confuse him. However, the frustrated girl soon brought an end to that plan when Malfoy informed her she now had another hour of detention, as they were currently 15 minutes into the hour of midnight. Ginny froze, taut with the anger his comment produced, before walking all the more briskly towards her destination. _Their _destination. Malfoy's pleasure was inverse to Ginny's displeasure, so needless-to-say he was enjoying himself immensely, though the only indication of said pleasure was the upbeat rhythm his fingers were tapping silently on his wand. 

Ginny stalked past the newly polished suit of armor that had stood outside the common room for as long as she could remember and muttered the password to the Fat Lady. The Fat Lady, though tempted to make the sixth grader wait due to her earlier impertinence, noticed the smug Slytherin standing behind the young red head and put aside her vengeance for the moment in the face of a common enemy and allowed the frame to swing open. 

"I'll inform Filch of your detention, unless you would prefer Snape officiate your punishment." He paused for a moment. "Upon giving it further thought, I have come to the conclusion that an hour under the supervision of each teacher would be the fairest thing to do." Ginny glared at Malfoy a moment longer before turning sharply on her heel and stepping through the entrance. 

Malfoy put his hand out, preventing the portrait from closing fully. "Weasley," he called. Ginny stopped walking and turned around scowling, not wanting to give him an excuse to increase her detention time, which he would no doubt do. Exponentially. "Good to see that someone finally polished the suit of armor; it was beginning to look like something that belonged in your house." 

Ginny's jaw dropped in shock. He's known all along where the Gryffindor common room was, she'd gotten those detentions for nothing. "You ba-"

"Language, Weasley," Malfoy interrupted, releasing his hand and letting the portrait close. He then chuckled softly to himself before turning and walking away. "You just might be entertaining after all, Weasel," he said to himself happily. 

Ginny slowly closed her jaw and stood staring at the back of the portrait, her eyes unblinking. "I'm gonna kill him, I'm really gonna kill him," she stated matter-of-factly. She slowly came out of her daze and walked across the now empty common room towards the fire. She looked around her and spotted her favourite red leather, high-backed chair. It was old and worn, but it was elegant and the leather was soft. But best of all it had the squishiest cushions ever. Ginny pocketed her wand and then began to drag the chair across the floor. Half way through her second tug, which paralleled her second grunt, she remembered that she was, in fact, a witch. The panting girl pulled her wand from her pocket and through clenched teeth muttered the appropriate spell. "_Wingardium leviosa_."

Once the chair was where she wanted it, Ginny replaced her wand, removed her bunny slippers, and flopped into the chair. She flung her legs over one arm and lay her head back on the other, and then stared intently at the fire as it licked and ate at the logs. 

And as the fire slowly, but surely, devoured the logs, Ginny contemplated homicide; I mean, there really was no other alternative, right? He had gone above and beyond simple maliciousness and ventured into unforgivable territory. He could insult her all he liked, but when that cost house points, well, that was a whole otherquidditch game. Yeah, sure, fine, so Lavender would bitch and moan at her for weeks for killing the hottest guy in Hogwarts, but what had to be done, had to be done…At that thought Ginny tensed. 

Ok, so let's figure this out. Now, Ginny didn't allow anger to cloud her judgment, so she had to concede the fact that Draco Malfoy _was _very attractive…Ok, fine, so he could melt the arctic, no need to go on and bloody on about it. But in addition to that he was very experienced, if the female population of Hogwarts was anything to go by. Another plus. However, he never slept with Gryffindors, for which Lavender already complained about on a daily basis. Hmm, a minus. But if Ron ever found out, Ginny wouldn't give a damn if he got the crap kicked out of him, hell, Ron could kill him for her. And it really isn't like a Malfoy would brag about doin' the horizontal limbo with a Weasley. 

Ginny slowly sat up, a difficult feat due to the squishiness of the chair. She rested her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. This really was quite brilliant. A moment of indecision crossed her mind, before it slowly faded in the face of logic. Besides, if this turned out to be a bad idea she could always blame Hermione. Ginny allowed a small smile to grace her face before she rose, put on her bunny slippers and headed out the common room not five minutes after she had entered it. 

The plan was that if she wandered the halls long enough, Malfoy, sensing an opportunity to take points from Gryffindor House, would appear miraculously in a cloud of smoke. Or possibly drop from the ceiling. Well, that was the plan until a better, less retarded, plan could be thought of. 

Ginny twirled her wand in her right hand as she walked rapidly through the halls, her bunny slippers muffling the sound of her steps. "_Lumos_," she said in a loud and jaunty manner. "Oh where, oh where could that little Malfoy be, oh where, oh where could he beeeeee?" She sung softly, and ridiculously out of tune. 

"For the love of Merlin, stop it before I curse you," an irritated voice demanded from behind the girl. Ginny gasped and swung around, nearly poking Malfoy in the eye. He jerked back, almost loosing his elegant posture. Almost. He righted himself and raised an imperious eyebrow at the red head, as if he were questioning her sanity. She wanted _more _detention? 

"It worked," Ginny breathed, before shaking her head. She lowered her wand and looked Malfoy up and down. Her knees started to tremble ever so slightly, this was game time. She cleared her throat. "Ahem. Right. Well. Um-"

"I gather you have something to say in your defense," Malfoy said with a smirk.

"No, not really." 

The statement was followed by silence on both sides. It was no new thing for any of the Weasley's to talk back to a Malfoy, so it really wasn't all that surprising. But what Ginny said next no other Weasley had ever said to a Malfoy before. At least this Malfoy hoped so.

"I want to have sex with you." The statement was made very matter-of-factly, with no hesitations. 

The smirk slowly slid from Draco's face. "What?" He asked softly, shock tempering his tone.

"I, Virginia Anne Weasley, want to have sex with you, Draco Something Malfoy." There was a momentary pause. "Please."

Malfoy finally seemed to shake himself free of his shock and a frown marred his brow. "This is a new low, even for you, Weasel. You don't honestly think that I would take away your detentions for a roll in the hay, do you?"

Ginny clenched her jaw. "This isn't about that," she said tautly as she pressed closer and closer to his form, "this is about my health, my peace of mind, the rest of my life," she finished with an almost desperate fervor.

Malfoy took a step back and fixed Ginny with a suitably incredulous look. Not even 'Malfoy Dignity Training' could prevent these emotions from crossing his face. Unfortunately, Ginny was in no state to enjoy his lack of grace. She looked frantically from one body part of Malfoy's to the next, trying to read his body language and get some idea of what he would say next. His jaw hung completely slack with surprise, his hand was clenching and unclenching spasmodically on his wand. Abruptly the hand stilled and his jaw snapped shut. Uh oh. Not good. 

The head boy resisted the urge to make sure his hair was still slicked back immaculately as he looked down his nose at the cause of his momentary dishevelment. He noted her severely pulled back hair, it was messy and somewhat lopsided, but the deep red tone of it still gleamed with life. Her skin had gained most of its colour back, leaving it with an almost healthy, light pink tinge. Her normally almond shaped eyes were round as they darted between his face and his hand. Her pixie features looked almost child-like, but the cherubic image was ruined by her slightly parted rosy lips, through which she was drawing breath rather anxiously. At that realization, Malfoy spun around and began walking away. This was _not _worth it. 

"Wait! Wait! WAAAAAAAIT!!" Ginny yelled as she hurried to catch up with him. "What are you doing?!" She asked in amazement. 

"Getting the hell away from you," he responded without even looking at her, "I hardly want to catch what you have and begin asking the people I hate to have sex with me. Namely Potter." He lengthened his stride, causing Ginny to have to jog to keep up.

"I don't hate you!" Ginny said quickly. This earned her a skeptical glance. "Ok, fine," she conceded as she bobbed her head and rolled her eyes, "so I'm not overly fond of you, but ya know, people change. Not you, of course, but people in general. And I'm people." This nonsensical argument earned what it deserved; nothing. So Ginny forged on as she followed the boy through various twists and turns. "Sex! You're turning down sex!" The Head boy spared an irritated glance at Ginny.

"Malfoys think with their brains, not their heads." Ginny noticed his hand tighten on his wand and took it as encouragement. 

"No one will ever know," she said in a low tempting voice. Her unconsciously husky tone caused Malfoy to slow unthinkingly, though his head was still directed stubbornly forwards. "All I'm asking for is half an hour of your time, of your…skill…talent, if you will." Malfoy's pace slowed to a creep, his grasp on his wand tightening ever so slightly. Ginny pushed on, leisurely moving to within a hair of his robes. "It'll be our…little…secret," she cajoled, her voice dropping in volume with each word, until it was a whisper. 

Malfoy's body was tense, his hand almost shaking to maintain its Herculean grip on his wand. Finally he stopped. Ginny didn't dare blink as she watched him, her gaze darting between his hand on his wand and his clenched jaw. Oddly, she paid no attention to the rest of his face, not even his sharp, grey eyes. 

Then something happened; his jaw slowly relaxed. Ginny froze and her eyes flew to his hand. It too was slowly relaxing. What did this mean? What was he going to do? This was what she wanted, right?! She wanted him to relax, didn't she?! Oh, Merlin! Her thoughts became more frantic and her apprehension increased exponentially. 

His tongue slowly slid out of his mouth and moistened his lips, Ginny stared transfixed, not even breathing. He then slowly turned his whole body towards the motionless girl and focused on her eyes. Ginny unthinkingly took a small step back. It was the strangest thing; Malfoy had no expression on his face, but his whole disposition had changed. He seemed almost…predatory. 

Finally, Ginny's lungs began to scream for air and she drew in a loud breath. Malfoy's gaze sunk to her lips, and then down the rest of her form, taking in her dressing-gown covered form, and finally her bunny slippers. Ginny was surprised anew as he once again made no comment on her tattered bunny slippers. In the back of her mind the sixth year was idly thinking that perhaps she should be doing something. She didn't know what, but surely something was called for. But her mind and body would not cooperate. Casually, Malfoy raised his eyes to meet Ginny's wide, brown ones, and a half-smirk made it ways onto his features, an unholy humor gracing his eyes. Ginny waited, knowing that this would be it; he would either insult her or take her up on her offer. She wasn't sure which one she feared most. 

And then he spoke. "I don't know who you've been speaking to," he murmured, his voice rich and low, "but half an hour is not nearly enough time for me to truly make an impression with my," he leaned towards Ginny's inert form and whispered in her ear, "talent."

The next two hours was followed by a mix of frantic tugging at clothing and leisurely exploration in Draco Malfoy's Head Boy room in the Slytherin dorms. The night was punctuated frequently with Ginny's breathless and boisterous calls to various deities, and after a particularly loud and drawn out, "Oh, Merlin! Oh! OH! OHHHHHHH! Draaaaaaaaaaacoooooooooo!", the two collapsed onto the 1200 thread count, imported Egyptian cotton sheets. Ginny, too staggered to do anything other than gulp in air, simply stared at the ceiling. Malfoy, in much the same state, could also only stare absently into space in surprise, one arm flung above his head as he breathed deeply. After a minute of this he reached down and flung the covers over them. 

Malfoy then cleared his throat, trying to hide the nervousness in the action, glanced at Ginny (who was still staring stupidly at the ceiling). "So…" he began casually, "I was thinking that maybe we could do this again sometime." There was no response from Ginny. Malfoy glanced at Ginny again…nope, she wasn't asleep…what the hell was taking her so damn long?! 

Malfoy was on the verge of throwing the covers back and ordering her from his room when she spoke. "Oh hell yeah," she said softly, but with undeniable certainty. Malfoy relaxed and turned his head to look at the girl next to him. Her red hair was in disarray obscuring her face from view, sticking messily to the sweat that covered her body. It looked vibrant and alive against her lily-white skin. 

Ginny's breathing finally slowed and she turned, her eyes half-mast, to look at Malfoy's waiting face. His hair wasn't much better off, the gel hadn't done a good job of keeping it in place once they had really got going. Ginny gave a small smile as her eyes roved his features, and she realized that even Malfoy couldn't stop his features from relaxing after all that. His lips were red and swollen and clumps of wilted, white-blonde hair framed his face. Ginny's eyes flickered to the rest of his form for a moment; he was defiantly slender, but he was still more muscled than one would think. 

Ginny finally met his eyes and let out a deep, belly laugh. Malfoy sucked in a breath and his stomach fluttered at the sensual sound of it. "What is it?" He asked, deliberately maintaining the relaxed atmosphere that had naturally formed as soon as their lips had met over two hours ago. 

Ginny, still grinning and a little breathless, explained. "Even after the two most aerobically intense hours of my life, _you _have the gall to look perfect. Even when you're naked and sweaty." 

Said naked and sweaty person raised an eyebrow and declared imperiously, "I find your surprise insulting," the glint in his eyes and the small tilt of his lips revealing the joke for what it was, even if his tone did no such thing. Ginny almost laughed anew. This man, for another thing she was required to concede was that he really was a man, was all about subtlety. His most telling actions were his smallest ones. 

They simultaneously turned their heads back to look at the ceiling. "Not too bad for my first time, eh?" Ginny said proudly, a small smile still on her lips. 

"Not too bad at all, Weasley," Malfoy allowed. "Though I have to ask, why me?"

"Well, you're attractive-"

"_You _thought I was attractive?" Malfoy interjected with deliberate surprise. "I'm quite aware that I am attractive, but for you, a Weasley, to actu-"

"For goodness sake!" Ginny snapped, "Snape is an arse, you're attractive, and the world is round, they're all accepted facts that we have to deal with."

"Got something for Slytherins, Weasley?" He murmured antagonistically. Ginny refused to dignify that jab with a response.

"Anyway," she drew the word out, "I chose you because you are attractive," this statement was accompanied with a warning look, "you're experience is well known, which was an important factor due to my lack of it. And finally because you're hardly going to brag about shagging a Weasley. Oh, and if Ron finds out I don't care if he kills you."

"I'm impressed," surprise colouring the Head Boy's tone. "Your logic is infallible. Mudblood would be impressed."

"Don't call her that," Ginny said sharply. Malfoy rolled his eyes, but was unwilling to ruin whatever the future held in stock in this realm. "And yes, she would be," the red head said after a moment, "it was her idea, after-all." 

Draco's head snapped to look at the woman next to him, incredulous. "Mud-Granger told you to have sex with me?!" 

"Hardly!" Ginny said with a giggle. "She did tell me to have sex though, to help me relax. Well, there was another idea, it works for her."

"But not for you?"

"Nope. I'm gonna give it another try though." Malfoy wondered what she was talking about and if it would mean she wouldn't be having sex with him anymore. The idea had barely formed in his mind before he rejected it, knowing with absolute certainty that he was too good to ever give up. 

Silence reigned for a good five minutes as the two were engrossed in their own thoughts. 

"This changes nothing," Malfoy stated, wanting to make sure she understood the situation.

"Of course not," Ginny responded airily. 

And both drifted off to sleep, exceedingly happy with the arrangement.


	4. Purple Haze

A/N: Ok, I would have made this chapter longer, but it just seemed logical for it to end where it has ended. I've decided to change the summary, cause the one I have is actually kinda lame, not intriguing at all. 

I'm pretty sure that, no matter the number of reviews that I get, I'll finish it, just because I don't think I could stand having it unfinished once I've started it. But once summer comes (and there's no homework to put off) the only thing motivating me will be reviews. So however generic you think you might be when reviewing, it doesn't matter, cause it will make a MASSIVE difference over the next three months. And I guess how well this fic is received will affect whether or not I write another. Though the next three school years will provide me with PLENTY of school work to put off… ;) But only during the school year, cause I am everything BUT an overachiever.

Finally, **Veriawen-Edhel**, that was one of the best things you coulda said, thanks! **Nerwen Faelvirin**, **Bunny / Sailor Moon**, and **Luck Marie**! Thanks a bunch, whenever I don't want to do my homework (which is pretty much always) I go read the reviews, hehehe.

* * *

4.

Purple Haze

By Jimi Hendrix (as if y'all didn't know that one…)

Purple Haze all in my brain,

Lately things don't seem the same.

Acting funny but I don't know why,

Excuse me while I kiss the sky.

Purple haze all around,

Don't know if I'm coming up or down.

Am I happy or in misery?

What ever it is, that girl put a spell on me…

* * *

Saturday Morning…

So, back to the grinning and stretching of a very sexually satisfied Virginia Anne Weasley. Not even the reminiscing of the previous day's events could dampen the mood, not even the thought of the impending interrogation that she would receive when she showed up to the portrait of Gryffindor tower looking delectably ravished. Hmmm…how would she avert that particular disaster? Ginny turned onto her side, dislodging Malfoy's arm in the process, and leaned over him to look at the alarm clock located on the bedside table. She was about to flop back down when she paused and slowly turned back to look at the clock…was that a damn snake? Did he really have an ornate snake framing the face of his clock? Was he serious? Ginny rolled her eyes and shook her head, and then carefully lay back down, trying not to jostle the bed too much. 

Was that a canopy? Dear Merlin, he had a canopy on his bed. Why hadn't she noticed this before? Oh. Yeah. Right. Still…He has a life sized self-portrait on the wall?! Ok, enough was enough. Ginny slid to the side of the bed closest to the window and sat on the edge of the bed, resisting the urge to ogle the painting of Draco in his quidditch uniform, looking all suave and leering…Wait, leering? Ginny looked down, and was faced with her nakedness. Some people could have no clothes on and be nude, but not Ginny, when she had no clothes on she was naked. Ginny frowned and looked around for something to cover herself with. 

She stood from the bed, running a hand through her tangled hair, and walked over to the window sill where, somehow, her dressing gown had ended up. Ginny smiled as the answer to her earlier problem solved itself. She threw a quick glare at the Draco-portrait who's response was to smirk and raise his eyebrows suggestively. Ginny huffed, flipped her hair out of the back of the dressing gown, secured it, and went about collecting her clothes before heading to the bathroom to get dressed.

Ginny walked out of the bathroom blinking in an overly-dramatic fashion, having just been blinded, by what on any standard, would have been considered excessive gold-plating. At least she hoped it was plating. She gave her head a quick shake to clear her thoughts and then noticed Malfoy with his back to her, slipping on a pair of boxers. He turned around at Ginny's muttering and looked at her blankly, concealing his thoughts. Ginny smiled distractedly at him as she went in search of her hair tie. Malfoy crossed his arms and frowned at the apparent dismissal. If he didn't know any better he would have thought that she didn't care what he was thinking. Well, he _should _have known better, because, to be perfectly honest, she really _didn't _care what he was thinking.

"Have you seen my hair tie?" Ginny asked as her eyes quickly swept the floor. She picked through Malfoy's strewn clothes, but other than the mess they had created last night, everything was in perfect order. Almost obsessively so. She'd have to watch out for that, hardly needed an obsessive Malfoy creating murals to her amazingness. Ginny giggled at the thought before dropping to her hands and knees and looking under the bed. 

The head-boy blinked in surprise as Ginny giggled. She was certainly…chipper, for lack of a better word. He'd expected tears and regret, not…giggling. His eyes narrowed, she'd better not be expecting flowers and romance, the last thing he needed was another groupie obsessed with him. Damn groupies and their damn murals. 

"Ah ha! Found it!" Ginny cried, scrambling ungracefully to her bunny-clad feet. Malfoy schooled his features to a reserved blank once more. Ginny whistled as she walked across the room to the entrance, tying her hair in the process. 

The blond cringed at the completely out of tune whistling, and saw an opportunity to get the teasing status quo back to normal. "Do you mind?"

"Nope," Ginny glanced at him and grinned as she grabbed his broomstick. His _actual _broomstick. She then walked back across the room, over the aubusson rug, and checked the time again. "Oh, dear," she exclaimed softly.

"Oh, dear?" Malfoy mouthed in disgust, who actually _says _that? He managed to clear his face of expression before Ginny turned around. 

"Well, it's been a blast, we should do it again sometime," Ginny reached her free hand up and patted his face, smiling pleasantly as she did so. She then walked around him and to the other side of the bed, flung open the window, and then turned around and raised the broomstick slightly. "I'll get this back to you. Bye!" She then mounted the broom, hovered just outside of the window for a moment, and then with a jaunty wave she was off. 

Malfoy had followed her progress across the room and now stood perfectly still. But it wasn't his renowned self-control that held him frozen this time; it was shock. His jaw was hanging slightly open and his eyes were wide, questions swirling just beneath he surface. Had she just blown him off? Wasn't _he _the one who was supposed to do that? Malfoy was completely stumped as to how to react, he'd never been in this situation before; a woman had never left _him _before, he'd always left _them_. This wasn't right! He was a Malfoy, damnit! Malfoys always did the leaving, they were never the leavee! The Slytherin's shock slowly seeped away in the face of his righteous indignation. Had that little _harlot _really just taken his broom?! Why hadn't he stopped her?!! Oh. Yeah. Right. Damn mens' one track minds and damn her too! Alright, this situation had to be rectified. If this was going to continue she had to know who was in charge. Draco _bloody _Malfoy was in charge, damnit!…Wasn't he?

* * *

Ginny hovered as close to the small ledge that lined the outside of Hermione's prefect room window. She then slipped from her broom onto the ledge, balancing a little precariously on the ledge for a moment, her satisfied smile slipping for a moment; bunny slippers were not conducive to ledge balancing. Apparently. She filed that away for future reference, a good thing to know after all. 

The female Weasley grasped the broom in one hand and pushed her face up against the glass to peer inside. When she had confirmed that no one (and by 'no one' she meant Ron) was inside except for the already dressed owner of the room, she began tapping on the glass. Hermione jerked her head up from her desk at the sound and swung around to look at the window. The head girl's eyes widened as she noticed Ginny standing on a ledge in her pajamas, grinning stupidly as she held a broom in one hand and waved frantically with the other. 

Hermione stood so quickly her chair toppled over, but it was ignored as she raced to open her window. Ginny shifted to the side so that Hermione could open one side of the window without knocking her off of the ledge. 

"Ginny!" Hermione screeched as soon as the other girl had leapt inside, smile still firmly in place.

"Good day, Hermione!" Ginny said casually. 

Hermione sputtered for a moment, unsure whether she should be outraged or just plain shocked. "What in Merlin's name were you doing on my ledge at ten o'clock in the morning?!"

Ginny looked at Hermione strangely, a playful gleam in her eye. "The fact that it's ten o'clock doesn't seem very relevant, does it. I mean, if I had been on your ledge at ten o'clock at _night_, now _that _would be adequate reason for you to include the time." Ginny strolled from Hermione and the window over to the already made bed and fell down onto it, absently tossing the broom onto the ground beside her. "But ten o'clock in the _morning _is hardly a scandalous time, now is it?"

Hermione, still frozen near the window, slowly unfroze and walked furiously up to the redhead lying on her bed. Ginny continued to lay there, her hands still clasped behind her bed, her lips still slanted in a smile, as Hermione loomed over her, jaw clenched and glaring at her. "Virginia. Anne. Weasley," the bushy haired girl paused for effect," you will tell me _immediately _why it is that you were standing on my ledge at _ten o'clock _in the morning!" 

"Good thing it is ten o'clock in the morning too, otherwise I would have frozen my…tail off," Ginny finished meekly as Hermione's glare gained intensity and her hands moved to her hips, looking for all the world like a mini Molly Weasley. "Alright, alright, alright," Ginny sighed as she sat up and crossed her legs. "Take a seat, my friend," she patted the bed beside her. Hermione hesitated before settling herself on the side of the bed in front of Ginny, her legs hanging over the side. Ginny cleared her throat, looking everywhere but at Hermione. "Well, I, ah, took your advice."

"You've read Adalbert Waffling's book 'Magical Theory'?"

"What?" Ginny asked, confused. "No, I had sex, but I'll read Adalbert Waffling 'Magical Theory' as soon as I get bored with that."

"Well, then." There was a long pause as Hermione stared stonily at Ginny. "I take it from that silly smile that you won't be reading 'Magical Theory' any time soon," Hermione stated pompously, before breaking into laughter that Ginny couldn't help but join. "Who?" The head girl gasped as she caught her breath. 

"Draco Malfoy!" Ginny chocked out, still laughing. The next thing Ginny knew she had been shoved off of the bed. "What was that for?!" She demanded indignantly as got to her knees and began rubbing her rear. She barely resisted to urge to look over her shoulder and make sure the hard landing on the stone hadn't permanently scarred her arse. 

The sun that poured in through the window backlit Hermione's standing frame, outlining it. The wild hair that surrounded her head only adding to the 'avenging angel' feel that was coming off of the girl. "With WHO?!" She boomed fiercely, her hands on her hips. Ginny fell back onto her arse at the shout and silence reigned as the redhead stared in awe at the intimidating figure. 

"Hermione," Ginny began hesitantly from her fallen position, "maybe you should go see Neville and get some-"

"I don't need to see Neville!" She yelled sharply. "What I need is for you to tell me why you slept with Draco Malfoy!"

"Well, he, I, you're making me nervous!" Ginny whined as she slowly got to her feet and edged away. 

"Oh! For goodness sake!" The head girl muttered as she lost her otherworldliness and sank down onto the bed, her head in her hands. "Of all the people you could have chosen, you chose _him_. Why?" She asked in a pained tone.

"Well," Ginny said excitedly as she sat down next to Hermione, "it makes perfect sense. You're going to think I'm brilliant when I explain it to you." Hermione raised an eyebrow dubiously. "I don't like him! At all! Zip! Nada! Nothing!" Ginny smiled and nodded her head, clearly waiting for the expected approval. 

A look of complete and utter mystification slowly unfolded on the head girl's face. "Are you _simple_?" Hermione enunciated as clearly as she was able, looking out of the window. "Ginny," she began patiently, clasping her hands in front of her mouth and slowly in haling then exhaling, "sex, to people like you and me, has to _mean _something." Hermione dropped her hands into her lap and turned to look at her friend.

"Oh! But it does!" Ginny said excitedly, grabbing Hermione's hands and shuffling closer. "See, because I don't care about him it _means _that if Ron wants to hurt him I won't care! And he's a Malfoy, so he's not likely to tell anyone we're having at it! There are no feelings involved and that _means _that it's perfect!" 

"You know perfectly well that's not what I meant by 'means'," Hermione snapped as she snatched her hands back and folded her arms, a scowl on her face. "Though it is almost impossible to argue with your logic."

"Almost?! Don't be preposterous, it's brilliant and you know it."

"It's only brilliant if it is ultimately worth it."

"Five times, Hermione," Ginny said solemnly.

Hermione's frown intensified and she clenched her jaw. "If you're going to lie at least don't insult my intelligence by being so blatantly outlandish about it and still expect me to believe-"

"Five. Times." Ginny interrupted, her voice still as seriously forceful as before. The two girls stared at each other challengingly. Hermione absolutely refused to believe such a ludicrous number and Ginny refused to…well, lie. Silence reigned as each girl looked at the other, Hermione with her arms still crossed and her glare still firmly in place, Ginny with her hands folded in her lap, looking serenely sure of herself.

"You're trying to tell me that he made you-…That is to say that he caused you to-…Five _times_?!" She asked incredulously.

"Yes!" Ginny yelled, somewhat irritated by the doubt in her friend's voice. 

"Five times?" Hermione asked again, "Are you sure?"

"Hermione!" Snapped the younger girl.

"I'm sorry…" the bushy haired girl raised her hands placatingly before ruining it all by continuing to talk, "but _five _times?!"

"Yes! Alright?! YES! Five _bloody _times! How many more _times _do I have to say it?!"

"No more times, I believe you, really, I do." 

Silence reigned as an almost awkward air settled in the room as each thought about what had just been affirmed numerous times. Both girls faced forward, staring out the window, but not seeing anything. It's not that the concept of what Ginny was proposing was _inconceivable_, per se, just, well…impressive, Hermione supposed.

"Wow," Hermione murmured, finally.

"Yeah, wow," Ginny responded just as softly. 

Slowly the two girls looked at each other, and broke out into girlish giggles. They then huddled together and spoke in hushed voices despite there being no one around to hear what they were saying. 

Hermione tucked a bushy lock of hair behind her ear before she began to speak in excited, hushed tones. "That is absolutely amazing, Ginny! I can't believe, well, I mean, I can," she quickly amended, "what I mean is that that is absolutely amazing!"

"I know," Ginny giggled, her eyes sparkling, her smile irrepressible. 

"I'm not going to ask how, though I honestly almost want to. Was he really that good?"

"Yes! And this is going to sound strange, but it wasn't as if he was a different person while we were together. I mean, he was still Draco Malfoy, but instead of his energies being focused towards making our lives miserable, he was completely focused on what we were doing." 

"Oh my," Hermione was astounded.

"Oh my indeed!" Ginny exalted. "He's actually a really funny guy, witty and subtle. Very subtle."

"Wait, Ginny," Hermione interrupted apprehensively, "you aren't actually suggesting he has redeeming qualities, are you?"

"Hell, no!" Was the appalled response.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" Hermione expelled with a nervous laugh, "from the way you were talking, it wouldn't have been completely inconceivable that you were, you know, beginning to perhaps…care…for him."

Ginny smiled and shook her head. "Not a chance. Just because I can appreciate his brand of humor doesn't mean I like him as a human being."

"Good, good. Just make sure you remember that."

"Oh, come on! How hard could it be? You know as well as I do that the only way that Malfoy would ever change is if he…well," Ginny laughed at the preposterous thought that entered her mind.

"What, Ginny? He'd only change if he what?"

"Hermione, the only way that Draco Malfoy would ever change at this point in his life would be if he fell in love."

Both girls looked at each other for a moment and then, following the generally unstable pattern of this particular conversation, broke into laughter.


	5. Undercover

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A/N:** Crimson Regret 177**, **Saia May Dursley**, **Dark Angels**, **Mynuet**, **JoJo**, **Mizuhi Sakura**, **Rismon**, **Panda-monium**, **Bunny / Sailor Moon**, and **Yasper25**. ThankYOU sooooo much for reviewing Familiar Things, I was a little worried that it would be awkward, that I'd tried to do too much in such a short piece. But when I got the first review for it I relaxed, and every review after that was some really good icing on the cake. Strawberry flavored icing, cause that's my favourite.

****

Nerwen Faelvirin, **nutsaboutremus**, **Veriarwen-Edhel**, **Mynuet**, **Bunny / Sailor Moon**, **Anonymous** (who thinks this story is 'sheer brilliance' and that I should 'get the shit on' hehehe), **Ehlonna**, **Iced Faerie**, **cool!**, **karen1**, **Hplova4eva**, **Organic Grape**, **the beloved long lived stranger who commands and protects from the elements…Aimee** (I had to put the full thing in, absolutely classic. Salutations from the land of the Long White Cloud!), **Rismon**, **Gnomish Librarian **(awww, you think I'm perverted, I'm honored , hehehe), **calie**, **Crimson Regret 177**, **MoonlightPrincess**, **Yasper25**, **Femme Draconis **(thank you so much, really), and **deathbypassion**.

A few of you have said that you either don't normally read this ship or you don't usually read stories of this style but that you liked this and that is one of the best compliments a writer can get. I remember saying the same thing to a author once and now I actually appreciate what she meant when she said to me that it was one of the best things you can say to an author. You have no idea how many times I've read each review. You could give me a screen name and I could tell you what that person said. It sounds really corny, but it is true that ever single one matters. The next chapter won't be anywhere near as long coming as this one was.

And thanks to Adrial for pointing out a mistake I made! I'm trying hard to not do exactly what you pointed out. I didn't get my beta to check the second half of the chapter, I just wanted to hurry up and post it. Thanks again!

Well, I hope that this lives up to expectations…cause that would suck pretty badly if it didn't…No pressure, Saint, just breath, in and out, in and out… ; )

5.

Undercover   
by Joey DeLuxe

You take two steps forward, smile and turn on the lights   
Just like a scene from a movie that you feel that you own the rights   
A bit of sweet talk and magic, a laugh and a little affection   
Some alcoholic persuasion, then you groovin' in the proper direction   
  
A secret agent man is always a mystery lover   
One smooth operator, working undercover   
Undercover

"So, what did you do then?"

"What do you think I did?" The young man exclaimed incredulously, "I told her to bugger off, 'a course; no self-respecting Irishman would have accepted such a proposal."

"Accepted what sort of proposal exactly?" Ginny asked as she sat down for brunch next to Harry in the Great Hall. Hermione took the seat opposite, between Ron and Seamus.

"Oh, let me tell!" Harry cleared his throat and then smirked uncharacteristically, ruining the weighty air he had assumed. "Seamus Finnigan, the victim, has recently informed us that he was the recipient of an indecent proposal made by one Mrs. Goyle, the accused."

Ron rolled his eyes. "What he means to say is that Seamus here reckons that Goyle's mum cornered him in Florish and Blotts while he was doing his school shopping and demanded he screw her."

"She did! I swear it on my sister's life!"

"You don't have a sister," Hermione pointed out.

Seamus frowned, looking affronted. "Are you saying that my sworn oath means less simply because I don't have a sister? And while we're on the subject; how _dare _you hold the fact that I don't have a sister against me!"

Silence engulfed the table for several long moments. Ron finished what he was eating and spoke, "You want me to kick his arse for you?"

Hermione pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow at Seamus, who still held his chin firmly in the air. "No, no, I'm quite fine thank you." Ron shrugged his shoulders and got back to eating.

Seamus grinned, "You're a gem, love, honest."

"Yes, well," Hermione began, one side of her mouth curling up slightly as she began to place chunks of pineapple on the plate in front of her, "you owe me one."

Seamus crossed his arms and leaned towards Hermione, a slight smirk playing across his lips. "Herm-"

"Wait!" Ginny interrupted around a mouthful of orange juice. She swallowed quickly, "Let me say it!" She cleared her throat, glanced at Seamus and then promptly folded her arms in the same fashion and quirked her lips into her best imitation of a flirty smirk. She then leaned across the table towards Hermione and said in her best Irish accent, "Hermione, after I'm done, _you'll _owe me one, lass."

"I do _not _sound like that!" Hollered Seamus, "And I certainly don't say 'lass'!"

"Yeah, you do," Harry said around laughs, "on both accounts."

"She got you good, mate," Ron added, a grin still firmly on his face as he saluted his sister, who was happily bowing to her adoring audience.

"He's not the only one you 'got good'," Hermione mumbled as she smiled innocently. Ginny shot her friend a warning glance before sedately taking her seat.

"You'll all regret this," the sandy-haired Irishman threatened, doing his best to hide his chagrin at being the butt of the joke.

"They're all mean bastards, aren't they, Seamus," Ron said as he reached around Hermione to slap the other seventh year sympathetically on the back.

"Yeah, always after your lucky charms," Harry added as he shook his head with affected heartbreak. Snickers broke out along the table and Seamus jumped up from the table and looked furtively over his shoulder for teachers before climbing frantically over the table towards Harry. Harry's eyes went wide as he fell back off of the bench and scrambled to his feet and began running.

Ron leapt to his feet and shouted across the hall at Seamus, "Don't you hurt him!"

"Thanks a lot for the help, you _WANKER_!" Harry retorted breathlessly, barely maintaining a two metre gap between himself and Seamus as he led them through an obstacle course.

"No problem," Ron shouted back, grinning, "can't have our star seeker out with an injury!"

The chase was led outside and Ron grabbed a slice of bread and followed the stream of students. "I'll see you after practice, 'Mione!" His girlfriend gave a wave of acknowledgement before turning back to her meal.

"I'm going to see Neville, do you wish to join me?" Hermione asked of the girl across from her. When Ginny didn't make eye contact after a few moments Hermione followed the red-head's line of sight and saw her staring at a sneering Draco Malfoy as he made his way between the tables and towards the exit doors of the Great Hall.

"Yeah, I'll go with you," Ginny began, still sharing eye contact with Malfoy. As she continued to talk her voice got louder. "I just have to return something that I borrowed off of some ponce." The blonde's eyes narrowed as he received the message. Ginny smiled at him with saccharine sweetness as she pushed her tray towards the centre of the table and stood.

Hermione glanced between Malfoy and Ginny. "You know, you wouldn't guess that you were involved from the way you two just interacted."

"Yeah," the other girl smiled whimsically, "isn't it grand?"

The two girls ambled slowly down the hall, much to the vexation of the slytherin that followed them. An occasional, very pointed, clearing of a throat behind the girls served only to interest them in stopping to admire the various paintings on the walls of the halls they casually journeyed down. They talked of mundane things, like the latest Weird Sisters song, the general hottness of Maximus Brankovitch III in the latest Teen Witch magazine (there was a conspicuous snort from behind them at this comment), and Lavender's latest conquest; it seemed her latest penchant was for younger men, for Colin Creevy had been seen tip-toeing "sneakily" from a broom closet shortly after Miss Brown had exited said broom closet. It wasn't that Lavender was a whore per se, she was just quite free in bestowing her charms.

The rest of the trip was just as mundane as the conversation and the borrowed broom was retrieved and left deliberately outside the door. When the girls left the Gryffindor dorms a few minutes later (Ginny with an inconspicuous, brown back pack slung over one shoulder) they noted that the broom was gone.

"Ya know, Hermione," Ginny began as they were walking back down the corridor, "I've really noticed a positive change in you since you started all this." Ginny jiggled her back pack slightly in reference.

Hermione nodded, and walked a little taller at the compliment. "Thank you. I'm rather glad that you've decided to join me again."

"Me too, I really missed that incredibly mellow feeling I get when I'm done. We still meet in the same place?"

"Yes. Neville talked with Professor McGonagall and permanently booked the room for an hour every weekday after school and for an hour every Saturday morning. It's just an old divination room, so its not as if its needed, but Neville and I talked it over and we decided that it was best to make sure that there was somewhere permanently available and that the location was secure from prying eyes. And the only way to do the latter was with the former."

Ginny halted in the hall and frowned at Hermione. "Wait, you're telling me that Neville just told them what we were-"

"No," the other girl interrupted, "he told McGonagall that he and I had established a study group and that our undisputed privacy was absolutely imperative to our concentration and that we would most certainly not approve of any interruptions. He even received her permission to cast a privacy ward around the room."

"And she just…believed him?" The redhead asked skeptically.

"Have you _seen _Neville lately?" Hermione asked rhetorically, as she began walking again, her friend following. Ginny nodded thoughtfully. "Ever since he started doing this stuff he's been rather-"

"Creepy?"

"-yet somewhat overwhelming in an almost…spiritual sort of way. He actually reminds me of this man who sells kites from a kiosk in muggle London on Lincolnshire Street, across from a library. I never actually saw him sell a kite, but he had this look about him that told me I was missing the point."

"What point?"

Silence reigned for several long moments as Hermione came to a conclusion. "I don't know; I suppose that's the point."

Ginny nodded sagely and then frowned. "Can't make much money doing that, I mean, what on earth would a muggle do with a kite anyway?"

"Fly it, of course."

"Hermione, kites fly themselves," Ginny explained mockingly, "they use these things called 'wings'."

Hermione clenched her jaw. "I wasn't talking about kites as in birds, I was talking about kites as in the children's toy."

"Oh. Well, then." Ginny paused. "They fly themselves, too. 'Least here they do. We, Ron and me, used to make them when we were little and mum would charm them to fly."

"Doesn't that defeat the purpose? I mean, isn't one supposed to derive pleasure from _flying _the kite?"

Ginny sighed deeply, a small smile tugging at her lips as she glanced at her ever-logical friend. "Have you never just watched a kite fly?"

"No, what could possibly be the purpose of that?" The bushy haired girl grimaced. "I'm missing the point again, aren't I?"

"Quite spectacularly."

The conversation ended there, as the girls entered the classroom to begin their 'study group' session. And it wasn't long after the door shut behind them that small wisps of strangely scented smoke could be seen curling out from under the door…

Meanwhile, the sexy, the suave, the incredible Draco Malfoy had finished quidditch practice, had showered and dressed his sexy self in charcoal slacks and a black turtleneck, and was currently slouched in a green velvet, high-backed chair as he looked pensively into the Slytherin common room fire. All in all he was looking very Byronic. And _very _sexy.

"How _do _you do that?" An honestly baffled voice questioned. Malfoy glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Blaise take the seat next to his.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Blaise raised one eyebrow and looked passively at the blond. Malfoy's eyes darted over again to his classmate and then darted back to the fire. "Oh, alright," he muttered, "practice. Lots and lots of practice. With mirrors."

Blaised smirked, "I always knew you were a kinky one, Malfoy."

The blond abandoned his pose and turned fully to glare at the other seventh year. "Do you have something to say?" he asked with feigned politeness.

"Yes, I rather fancy that I _do _have something to say." A long silence followed that statement as the two looked at each other. The fire light flickered over Blaise, throwing shadows over the dark haired students expressionless face, resulting in an almost sinister look.

"Well?" Malfoy finally demanded. Blaise looked at Malfoy through slightly narrowed eyes. Malfoy mirrored the actions and narrowed his own eyes. And just when you think one of them is about to say 'This town here ain't big enough for tha both of us', the blonds eye's widen comically, he shoots to his feet, pointing an accusing finger at the now smirking Blaise Zabini. "You know!" He whispers intensely, his jaw clenched and his eyes now back to glaring heatedly at his _friend_.

"Of course I know, your surprise insults my intelligence," Blaise sniffs dismissively. "Now, sit down, you look positively ridiculous." Draco lowered his arm and sat back down with jerky, aggravated movements.

"You really piss me off sometimes."

"I'll consider that a compliment."

"Yeah, you would."

"Are you quite done behaving like a six year old?"

"Shut your pretentious mouth up before _I _shut it _for _you. There, now I'm _quite _done."

Blaise gave a resigned sigh at the blond's antics. "Your current situation results in you finding yourself inextricably trapped between a rock and a hard place. An unenviable position." Blaise stared at Malfoy intensely. "Though I'm beginning to believe that you don't see it as so."

"Well, she's a good lay. It's just a royal pain in the arse that she's a gryffindor, and a bloody Weasley to boot," he sneered in response, though it was a very sexy sneer. "It never even occurred to her that if I did decide to brag that no one would believe me anyway. She thinks that I won't say anything because I don't want her brother to kick my arse to kingdom come. And that I won't want the world to know I shagged a Weasley."

"Both of which are very logical assumptions on her part. Though you would find it in you to suffer the minor humiliation of admitting you fornicated with a Weasley in favour of causing them considerably more humiliation."

"Precisely. But like I said, she didn't count on the fact that no one would believe me anyway, my word against hers would mean nothing." Malfoy glared at the fire and sighed at his predicament.

"You also have to consider that should you expose your…relationship, the likeliness of her continuing to meet with you would be essentially negligible." Blaise watched Malfoy closely. "So the youngest Weasley was randomly feeling like a bit of bed-sport which is why she approached you?"

"I _knew _you didn't know everything!" Malfoy boasted gleefully.

Blaise remained impassive. "I hardly need concern myself with the mental state of a Weasley, which is currently far more than you can lay claim to."

Malfoy smirked. "She rambled on and on about how it was important to her health that she sleep with me. She wanted me badly." The explanation was made very matter-of-factly.

"You really can be overbearingly pompous." Blaise frowned slightly. "You were probably convenient."

"_Convenient_?" Malfoy spat, affronted. "I am Draco Malfoy and I am no mere _convenience_! If anyone was _convenient _it was her!" But the seeds of doubt had already taken root. The concept that she had slept with him because he was '_convenient_' (he even mentally scorned the word) had never occurred to him, never would have occurred to him. People didn't question him, it just wasn't done. Who the _hell _was Blaise Zabini to say this?! "Just who the _hell _do you think you are?!"

Blaise barely resisted the urge to goad Malfoy further, knowing that would mean having to deal with weeks of the male equivalent of 'does my arse look fat in these robes?' And besides, goading was uncouth. "Malfoy, I can assure you that you are anything but convenient. In fact, you're usually damned _in_convenient." Malfoy's glare intensified at the backward compliment. "I'd fuck you if I swung that way."

Draco looked at the fire, the anger slowly leaving his face. After a few moments he looked back at Blaise. "Really?" He asked as casually as he could.

"Definitely," Blaise responded without hesitation. "May I make a suggestion?" Malfoy's hand tightened on the arm rest.

"By all means, do."

Blaise leaned forward, gesturing Malfoy to do the same. "Polyjuice potion. I collected all the ingredients over the summer and began brewing it the night we arrived off of the train. I'd thought to use it for my own purposes, but I can see the potential in you using it. However, it won't be ready for another two weeks, which brings me to my suggestion; have your fun with the Weasley girl for two more weeks, use the polyjuice potion to be Granger and then find a way to convince Weasley to admit to sleeping with you." Blaise leant back into the chair and adjusted an already perfect lapel before looking up at Malfoy. "I would think that guilt would have insurmountable potential with a gryffindor."

"Blaise?"

"Hmm?"

"Sometimes your brilliance scares me. But in a good way." Malfoy leaned back in his chair, then leaned forward and looked around the room, making sure it was empty. Once he was sure they were the only two he leaned back in his chair again, placed his arms on the arm rests and then closed his eyes. "Do it again," he ordered.

Blaise smirked, and then began. "The key ingredient is polyjuice potion…"


End file.
